Gone to the Dogs
by CapNicholls
Summary: Soda's in Vietnam. Darry gets Pony a dog. Couldn't think of a title. Again. It's cheesy. And kind of boring. But whatever.


_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Haven't checked for typos, so...yeah. Also probably going to be my last story for awhile; fanfics are taking up too much of my life._

I dig the heels of my palms into my eyes. _If X = 81 and Y = 42.7, what does X3 x Y (-4) + Z equal? Refer to the chart below._

I can't concentrate; I'm worried about Soda, hoping he's okay - and why isn't Darry home yet? I glance at the clock. 6:13. He said he'd be home late, but I didn't think he meant this late. My stomach growls, and I suddenly realize how hungry I am. Did I skip lunch? I don't remember. I've been holed up here pretty much all day doing homework, and I've still got a ton to do. My stomach growls again.

Forget this. I stand up and stretch before going downstairs. I'm taking a break. This is why they invented two-day weekends. I hunt around in the icebox for a chocolate cake, but can't find one. Just another reminder Soda's not here. I pull out a container and don't bother heating the contents before starting on them. Tonight, I feast on cold spaghetti and depression.

I bring my food up to my room, looking around for a book to read as I eat. My eyes land on _Gone With the Wind_ , and for a second, I consider pulling it out and finally finishing it. Instead, I look away. I can't. Not yet. Not this soon.

Finally, I give up and decide to tackle more homework. _If X = 81 and Y = 42.7, what does X3 x Y (-4) + Z equal? Refer to the chart below._

Armed with a pencil in one hand and a fork in the other, I start calculating.

XXX

"Pony."

Someone's saying my name softly, touching my back. I open my eyes blearily and the room slowly comes into focus around me. I sit up, running my hand across the side of my mouth to wipe away the drool I can feel running down my chin. I turn to see Darry standing next to me, an amused smile on his face.

"Alright?"

"Yeah, just fell asleep. Where've you been? What time is it?"

"Around nine. C'mon, I got something for you."

He turns and heads out the door, leaving me tired and confused. I follow him out to the backyard, wondering what in the world's going on. It's too dark out to see much of anything, and I almost trip and fall on my face more than once.

"Close your eyes," he instructs once we stop, and, reluctantly, I do as I'm told.

There's a pause, then something warm and soft is set in my arms. I immediately open my eyes, and my jaw drops slightly.

A dog. A little, golden-colored puppy. I don't know what kind- it looks like a mutt- I don't _care_ what kind. A _dog_.

I look up at Darry, shocked. "For real?"

He grins - it's the first real grin I've seen from him since Soda left. "For real."

I look back down at the puppy, who's staring up at me with chocolate-colored eyes, panting. It almost looks like it's smiling.

"Dar…" I can't believe it. I mean, we'd had a dog since Darry was little, but he'd died almost four years ago. None of us had ever asked for another; we all kind of knew without saying we couldn't afford another one. And Soda and I had ever brought it up to Darry.

"Figured we could both use something with lots of energy around," he shrugs. He must be as lonely without Soda as I am.

"Where'd you get him?"

"There was an ad in the paper a couple days ago - somebody giving away a litter of puppies, so I figured I'd check it out."

I don't know what to say. "Dar-" I look down at the dog, who's studying me intently with those dark eyes, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. I look back up at Darry, breaking into a huge grin. "Thanks."

XXX

Darry makes it clear that it's my dog, therefore my responsibility. I don't mind at all. He's pretty easy to take care of: make sure one bowl's filled with food and the other with water before I go to school, refill them when I get back if they're low. It's nice to have something to look forward to coming home to; Two-Bit drives me home from school every day, but he doesn't always hang out, and Darry doesn't usually get home until around four. You wouldn't believe how happy it makes me to walk across my lawn and have a little puppy, tongue hanging out of his mouth, come flying over to meet me.

I name him Cola - he honestly reminds me of Soda. His coat's almost the same color as Soda's hair, his eyes are pretty much the exact shade of brown, and I swear he always looks like he's grinning. Darry doesn't say anything when he hears what I've named him, and I'm glad. It isn't like I'm trying to _replace_ Soda - that's just who he reminds me of. Heck, if he reminded me of Two-Bit, I'd name him Keith. Anyway, Soda'll get a kick out of it when I tell him.

XXX

 _One year later_ …

Cola's grown a lot - he still acts just like a puppy, though, always wanting to play or run around. It took forever to house-train him, and he had so many accidents that Darry threatened to make me keep him outside. But with enough promising I'd train him on my part and pleading eyes on Cola's, Darry finally gave in.

He usually stays outside most of the time anyway. He loves it. Especially in winter - you should see him, covered in snow, barking at the white flakes falling to the ground. He always sleeps in my bed at night, though, either curling up by my feet or stretching out next to me, taking up most of the room. It's nice - especially when I have a nightmare. It used to be Soda there comforting me, assuring me everything's alright. Now it's Cola who sits there, looking up at me with big eyes, sometimes flopping his head in my lap, making sure I'm okay.

I forgot how much I missed having a dog.

XXX

The door slams loudly behind me, and Cola's head jerks up from where he had it lying on his front paws. I pace around my bedroom, raking a hand through my hair, breathing heavily. _This isn't happening. It's not real._

But it is. It is, and I can't do anything about it. Rage, boiling rage fills me, and I slam my fist against the wall, needing to release my fury before I explode.

A memory steals across my mind so fast I almost miss it: Dallas, in the hospital, sweat pouring down his face, pounding on the wall, begging Johnny not to die… Is this how he felt? So angry and scared and helpless that all he wanted to do was shut it off? Make it stop at any cost?

I get it now. I get it.

Something cold and damp touches my leg, and I whirl around to see Cola standing there, bumping his nose against me before looking up with huge eyes, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

"Get out of here," I growl, using my shin to shove him away, actually feeling myself tremble with fury, my hands balled so tightly into fists I don't think I'd be able to unclench them if I tried. _I need to do something…I can't take this…I need it to stop…_

I don't even know who I'm angry with. No one. Everyone. Soda, for enlisting. Darry, for letting him go. The Army, for taking him. Whoever got us into this war in the first place.

I'm going to blow up. I can't _take_ this. I can't-

A yell of pure rage escapes, and I slam my hands against the top of my desk, feeling the knuckles split open, but I don't care. I can't-

Cola whimpers, and something inside me snaps. I whirl around to him. "Shut up!" He freezes when I yell, then starts backing up as I advance. "Just shut up! You don't get it! He's _dead_! He's dead and he's _not coming back_ , just shut up!"

He's backed into the corner, trembling. I can see his whole body quivering; his dark eyes are huge, terrified.

Johnny's eyes.

My anger washes away the second I see the resemblance, and then regret hits me so hard my breath catches. He's never been scared of me before. I didn't mean to…

"Cola." I sink to the ground, my voice quiet, holding out a hand. Why- once the anger's gone, why does it hurt so bad? My hand drops as my eyes burn. _Why does it hurt so much?_ I just want it to stop. I _need_ it to stop. I feel so alone… "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, buddy…"

He's approaching me cautiously, still shaken - I would be too. I've never yelled at him before. I reach out again after wiping the back of my hand across my eyes, and brush my fingers through the fur on his chest. When he realizes I'm not going to hit him, he comes closer, giving a soft whine, and nuzzles under my arm. I don't know if he's trying to comfort me, or if he wants me to comfort him, but right now I think they're one and the same.

I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his fur, letting the tears come. _Why?_ I love him more than anybody, and now-

A sob escapes my lips, and Cola whimpers, ducking his head to bump his nose against my forehead. I pull away, wiping my face on my arm, then reach out to rub his ear. He flops onto his side and I curl up next to him on the floor, rubbing his head. He nuzzles against my hand for a second, then curls into a ball by my chest, his warmth radiating.

I let out a long breath. "Thanks, buddy."

He moves his head to look up at me, eyes sad, then lets out a small whine, craning his neck to lick my face without having to get up. I give a half-hearted smile. It's good to have him here, but, hard as he tries, he can't fill the hole in my chest, take away the fact that I feel so alone I'd do anything to make it stop.

A tear trickles from the corner of my eye towards my ear before falling the short distance to the floor. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to sleep - try to forget.

XXX

When I halfway wake up, it's dark out, and I can still feel Cola's body heat by my chest. But there's another warmth, too - I realize vaguely that a blanket's been drawn over me, and when I look over my shoulder drowsily, I see Darry next to me, asleep, one arm stretched across me to let me know I'm not alone.

 _Thanks for reading! Sorry if it was cheesy!_


End file.
